Predestined To Have Free Will?

The theologically minded will no doubt chuckle at the lack of theological and philosophical depth of the following explanations. This is in no way intended to be an adequate account of the intricacies of the analogia entis or causality in the Thomistic corpus. But rather, it is a horrendous oversimplification of inconsistencies in Reformation/Post-Reformation theology that is intended to shed light on a much broader metaphysical issue which underlies these respective fields. By doing so, I hope to point evangelical readers beyond one of several ‘modern’ dualisms that simply do not exist in the orthodox Christian tradition. Thomas Aquinas is cited because he is the theologian par excellence who masterfully and intentionally avoided this metaphysical issue throughout his work.

What’s all this debate about pre-destination and free-will? With both sides having valid biblical resources to draw upon, how are they to be reconciled?

For Thomas Aquinas, God is not a being that is included in a metaphysical system. Therefore God’s agency differs from ours. This means that when we compare how God acts in the world (Divine agency, or will) to how humans act in the world (human will) a careful ‘distinction’ must be maintained (by “not difference” I mean that there is an analogical relation between the way Divine and human agency are be related. Analogy indicates that things can be ‘distinct,’ but not utterly ‘different.’ This is further clarified below). If this ‘distinction’ is not maintained, we get…bad theology.

Philosophers and theologians have two common terms they employ in discussions like ours (they really like them for ontological discussions like when they ask, “what is ‘being?’ but they work for our topic too because they are related). These terms are: univocal and equivocal. Put simply, univocal means ‘sameness,’ equivocal means ‘difference.’ Juxtaposed, these two terms form a dualism, which we should always try to avoid in Christian theology.

What does this have to do with predestination and free-will? Well, this is precisely what is taking place behind the scenes in this ‘modern’ debate. What we have is “a plague on both houses;” two sides, using the same logic, forming a dualism that cannot be overcome without addressing the underlying metaphysic from which it emerges. In one corner stands the “Armenians” (free-will), and in the other, those we call “Calvinists” (predestination). The latter tend to think of God’s relation to mankind univocally. This means that when God acts upon us we are simply passive recipients of His will (the choice is entirely God’s). Furthermore, our actions are entirely directed by God, as is the future of the world (determinism). In an odd way, His will is our will. The former, however, tend to think of this relationship equivocally, whereby God’s will is entirely different from the human will. Thus the active choice of the human will determines not only one’s own destiny, but the plight of the entire cosmos. Entirely separate from God’s will, the human will can be for or against God’s will, it may even determine God’s will (one may see how following this logic of “Open Theism” becomes a viable theological option… unfortunately). Now these are obviously exaggerated, oversimplified examples. But, this is done for two reasons:

1. To exemplify how far this logic takes us; and
2. To reveal that dualism really doesn’t exist (but, only conceptually).

For God’s sake, there must be something that works better than this. There must be another option.

The opening paragraph states that when a ‘distinction’ is not maintained the inevitable result is dualism. Here is the important part: between the dualism of univocal and equivocal language there exists analogy.  Analogy is often employed theologically because it maintains a ‘distinction’ (between an apparent dualism) but not a complete difference (as in the case of dualism). Analogy suspends ‘sameness’ and ‘difference.’

In pre-modern times analogy was frequently employed in metaphysical attempts to explain the objective nature of ‘being’ when human understanding proved inadequate. Thomas Aquinas understood the necessity of analogy and would be surprised and certainly disappointed with the sort of dualism that emerged in the centuries following his death. Aquinas was a master at employing analogy. Relevant to our topic, Aquinas extends the use of analogy to explain the relations of divine and human agency. In utilizing analogy he suspends univocal and equivocal language. In following the Platonic tradition, Aquinas states that “God has immediate providence over everything…even the smallest.” It is, therefore, God who “gives them the power to produce those effects” (Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Ia. q. 22 a. 3). Stopping here suggests a univocal explanation of God’s agency. As we have earlier suggested, this response lends itself to doctrines of predestination as all human activity is controlled by God’s agency. Aquinas, however, does not stop here. In this portion of his treatise on agency one would expect Aquinas to offer an equivocal response to his initial claim. But Aquinas is careful not to counter with a dualism; rather, he completes his explanation by slightly amending his primary statement. He continues that, “there are certain intermediaries of God’s providence; for He governs things inferior by superior, not on account of any defect in His power, but by reason of the abundance of His goodness; so that the dignity of causality is imparted even to creatures” (Ibid).

Out of God’s “goodness” creatures act as “intermediaries” that participate in God’s plan.

In his apophatic style, Aquinas realizes the limits of language and is careful to avoid strict univocal or equivocal categorization of God. In doing so Aquinas portrays human actions as subject to God, yet free. Humans therefore, “do not create in the strict sense, but they are not denied a role in the temporal achievement of the realization of the idea.” (Robert C. Miner, Truth in the Making: Creative Knowledge in Theology and Philosophy, 9). Humans then, work in a way that mirrors the divine, creative power without usurping it (Miner, 34).

This is just one of the many dualisms that continue to plague Reformation and Post-Reformation theology. What should be clear is this underlying theological issue emerged with the concomitant loss of analogy and the advent of Nominalism (numerous books have been dedicated to this issue; so much so, that it is simply ‘old news’ to theologians and philosophers).

In closing, I hope that the reader takes away three points from this article:

1. Modern thought is fraught with dualisms.
2. There is no place for dualisms in the Christian tradition.
3. A point that wasn’t mentioned but can now be deduced, most contemporary attacks on Christianity are directed against this sort of bad theology, and in fact it was bad theology that opened up a space for this opposition (dualism).

Following this, I want to suggest that a rich understanding of the Christian theological tradition is the only apologetic in our current climate. So next time someone asks you if you’re an Armenian or a Calvinist tell them you’re a little bit of both, or better yet, tell them that dualisms are not a part of the tradition. The latter response will always leave pop-culture atheists confused, and scrambling for a more robust critique of Christianity.